


Fade away, and pass her by

by cc5



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bethyl if you squint, Daryl being protective, I guess this could come with a list of cw warnings but it's really just thoughts and mentions, Introspection, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Other Characters Are Mentioned, Past Child Abuse, Post 10x04, lemme know if I'm missing an important tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-16 09:17:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21505516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cc5/pseuds/cc5
Summary: Daryl is keeping watch again, this time for Lydia.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon & Lydia
Comments: 10
Kudos: 40





	Fade away, and pass her by

**Author's Note:**

> I really just wanted to see what might be going through Daryl's head, so why not write it?
> 
> Thanks to Shannon, Kirsty, and Susan, for talking things through with me when I was stuck! <3

It’s been a while since he’s actually taken watch- it’s a privilege not getting signed up for it anymore, having the freedom to come and go as he pleases, running errands and travelling between communities. Without a doubt, he works hard, and often puts himself at risk. The luxury his family affords him is that of warm meals and sleep, so that he can stay alert and at full strength. Alexandria is, against all odds, a smooth running machine for the most part, external influences notwithstanding. 

Having a room, a place for his things, that is new, too. A desk with little trinkets, smooth rocks, chestnuts, bottle cap of what was once his favourite beer. Pictures given to him by the children, a broken watch just to remind him how fragile time is, how quick it runs out. Dog toys, too many of them, that pup takes up most of the space and spreads himself all over his bed at night. Not an actual bed, granted, it’s a couch, but it’s as close to sleeping in a bed he has done in years. May have taken some cheeky comments from Judith to prompt him to do so, maybe he was tired of finding a fresh set of sheets outside his door every so often, a not so subtle hint. Regardless, he has a _home_. A place to lie down his head, a place to eat, wash, and rest. 

It is also a place to share memories in the form of stories Michonne likes to tell the kids, abstract enough to not allude to the tragic endings. Friends long gone live on in tales, recollections delivered with love and care. And so it goes, appreciating the past as much as they can in spite of the pain that brought them to this point. The sacrifices they all had to make, some of their choosing, some not. Fighting for a future, for these kids if not themselves. 

One kid he is worried about though. Still hears the whispers of her being a plant, being a danger to all, and maybe he shouldn’t bite his tongue as much as he has. 

Sleep won’t come to him, no matter how comfy the bed, or how exhausted he is. He’s starting to feel his age sometimes, the way his shoulders hurt after hunting and carrying a deer, how his feet ache after walking too long when the bike fails him. 

He’s weary tonight, like many nights. Sitting on the steps outside the jail, smoking stale tobacco. Dog doesn’t question his choice to trade a bed for this, but Carol shoots him a knowing glance as she brings him tea, but says nothing. About her he worries, too, and he’s not alone. His oldest friend will hopefully get some sleep, and tomorrow he will try and check in with her. One problem at a time. 

No sounds come from the cell, no rustling of sheets. She’s mostly quiet, had to to survive, and he has to force himself to remember how young she is. Yes, kids hardly have the luxury of being children anymore, but he’s looked her in the eye many times now- she’s haunted by her past abuse, which aged her in some ways and kept a child in others. What she needs is a parent, and that he can’t provide. Hell, he can’t even keep her alive it seems- between begging Carol to kill her, and almost getting killed by members of their own community, he’s done a shit job at actually being there for her. They almost killed her, and now he can hardly bear to look at her battered face. More pain for a girl who just wanted to fit in, who wanted to be like them. He’s mad at himself for that, for missing it, for not wanting to see. Maybe it’s because she reminds him of himself at that age. The constant slouch, eyes downcast, skittish. _Angry._ Ready to run. 

Abuse he knows too well, visible scars as well as the invisible, and it sends him back to that trailer, the reek of booze and cheap cigars, and his skin burns at the memory of the lashings he took. Constant fight or flight, and he lost either way. Or his mom did, or his brother. 

He’s not that boy anymore but she’s still that girl- as long as Alpha is out there, she can still ruin Lydia, unless others do it first. And even though the voices of the mob to avenge Margo have quieted down, he’ll keep watch. People’s cruelty shouldn’t surprise him, not ever since his own dad, but there is something particularly nasty about a mother being like that. 

Dog nudges his thigh, demanding more pats. He’s a good pup, who has helped Daryl through some dark times just by being there and giving him a reason to keep on going when things looked especially bleak. Still grieving Rick’s death and later trying to process what happened with Jocelyn’s kids. Suddenly Dog was just there and never left his side again, and Daryl would like to think that the animal knew he was needed, but it was probably just the food. Doesn’t matter, because they formed a bond that goes beyond practicality. 

And Daryl keeps hoping that Dog can give some comfort to Lydia, too. Daily, he sends him to her cell, and she sends him back up almost straight away. 

_Lydia’s cell._ This feels like a gut punch, too. To think that she prefers imprisonment and solitude over being in the community he loves and tries so hard to protect. She says she feels better there, and safe, and he shut the door to give her that, and it felt like a betrayal. Somehow, she traded one prison for another. Somehow, it’s like their relationship hasn’t evolved at all, they are back to square one when he threw her in the hole in the first place. 

He doesn’t want to be that person in her life. He’s not her warden- maybe he cannot be her parent but hopefully one day he can be her friend. A better friend than Negan, who of course swept in like a vulture first chance he got. There is a certain relief in the community with Negan gone, but Daryl knows best that someone like Negan never truly leaves. 

His tea is still steaming in the thermos. Wild mint, like his mom used to drink, the smell would temporarily take away the stink of his father’s presence. Everything his father touched, would wither, most of all his mom. When he was still a toddler, she would play with him less and less, stay in bed for days, and whenever his dad was out of the house he would sneak under the covers for hugs. She smelled of cigarette smoke and mint, and held him tight, never denying him love and warmth as she kissed the crown of his head over and over, telling him she loved him _forever and always_. Where his father was mean, she was kind, and naturally his favourite person in the world. 

Merle would make fun of him, called him a momma’s boy, and he was too young to understand that this was supposed to be an insult. He wanted to be like his mom, 

and make her feel better when their father made her sad. And only a few years later, when their home burned with her in it, he desperately wanted to be with her and almost ran into the flames.

The irony isn’t lost on him that he still smokes, cigarettes being the likely cause of the fire that killed her, intentional or not, and even now, the smell of smoke and mint tea makes him think of his mother’s comforting embrace. 

He doesn’t understand Alpha, how a mother can be like that. Hell, even the Governor did love his little girl beyond death, but the self-help book helps. He’s read up on gaslighting and dog-eared pages that may be beneficial to Lydia. Had hoped that she would enjoy school, learn enough to read so he could share the book with her. He can listen, but he isn’t a talker, but now it feels like time is running out for Lydia, and that sinking feeling festers in his belly. 

It was only after the assault, that Carol told him about last year, Lydia begging Carol to die. Right after the pikes, it had been a secret since then. Neither Carol nor Daryl truly believe that Lydia wanted to die, but it still had him reeling. The last time a teenager had given up on life, it wasn’t on him to change her mind or to help, and she turned out to be one of the strongest people he knows.

_Knew_. 

So many years and he still thinks of Beth in present tense. Still wonders what she might think, or say. If she would’ve helped to steer them in the right direction with her unwavering faith. Wonders how she would’ve thrived, if she would be happy now. 

Whenever he thinks ‘ _don’t matter_ ’, he can feel her defiance - _It_ does _matter_ and that’s what he lives by now. 

So, it does matter, what he does for Lydia, even the little things. Like sitting here, getting a sore ass on the concrete. Smoking too much. Simply watching out for her. 

“Go on, pup.” He gives Dog a gentle pat on the back. “Look after Lydia, will ya?” 

The sleepy animal descends the stairs lazily. Daryl listens to the nails scraping over the floor, the creaking of the cell door. Then, what he assumes is a jump on the cot, and shuffling of sheets- no way the heavy dog didn’t wake her, unless she was awake anyway. 

It stays quiet. He waits, sipping on his tea, the steam warming his face. Glances over the moonlit road, and it’s peaceful. 

He’ll keep on having faith that he’s doing things right by her, by them. Will try to be there for her as much as he can. 

He waits some more, and for the first time, Dog doesn't stay with him for the night. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, concrit always welcome, kudos and comments are <3


End file.
